Depressing Supernatural Fanfic--
by bigbootytooty
Summary: Dean is done and so is Sam. Their last mission will be permanent.


PART ONE:

"Werewolves? Again?" The music in the bar blared over Sam's voice.

"Hmm? I can't hear ya Sammy, speak up!"

"Dean this is why we don't discuss work in the Hard Rock Cafe..."

"C'mon, it's your favorite!" _Back in Black I hit the sack_

_It's been too long I'm glad to be back_ Dean hummed along to the music and drummed on the table with his fingers. Sam rolled his eyes sighed.

"You know Dean," Sam paused for a moment. "You don't really care what I have to say, do you? All you do is do what makes you happy"

"Dude, stow the touchy feely yoga self help crap."

On cue, Sam rolled his eyes and continued his speedy typing. He wasn't talking to Dean.

_Why does Dean think he can tell me what to do? He's not dad, he only acts like he is._

"Dude!" Dean waved his hand in front of Sam's face. Sam looked around him, his laptop was in front of Dean.

"Dammit Dean..." He reached in front of his brother and snatched back his laptop.

"Well I found out where he is; Huntsville, Alabama. Killed two people so far," Dean scooted the laptop closer and scrolled down "Bethany Habbott and Ryan Wilke. The bodies were found together, on some empty road, apparently they were on a date. What the real mystery is how Ryan here got this girl, she's a real hooter."

Sam scooted his laptop back near him. "The victim's heart was ripped out but, they were scalped."

"What so we got a werewolf hairdresser?"

"I think it's something else..."

"So it could be a werewolf hairdresser-"

"No. We better get going I have this feeling something is going to happen tonight."

"A feeling or a _feeling_?"

"A _feeling_."

The brothers sped down the highway, music loud, not talking to each other, Dean in shotgun and Sam at the wheel. Dean turned up the music and then laid back, ready to let the "soft" lull of Metallica lay him to sleep. Sam turned the station to a jazz flow-

"Is your "monthly friend" here, Sam?"

"I like this song."

"I like this song my ass Sam." Dean rolled over to face away from his brother and pretended to fall asleep.

_Bitch._

The car slowed to a stop, the pebbles beneath their boots crunching with every step they took. The rhythmic cop car lights waved across their faces in a bright pattern.

They stepped under the tape and walked to the cluster of officers that were standing near a few lifeless bodies. Dean flipped out his wallet with his FBI ID plastered on it and flashed it to the police.

"Agent West and (tilting his head to Sam) Agent Carver, mutilated corpse?"

"Mhmm, heart torn out with it looks like an attempted scalping. A semi driver was on it's way down this highway and found these kids but didn't catch a glimpse of who the real criminal was, he's saying it was a werewolf," the officer said, chuckling a little. "I guess the post-trauma got too far into his head." The man shook his head and knelt down near the bodies. "Although I don't understand what could do something like this, it looks like a wild animal."

"Thanks," Dean looked at his badge. "...Sheriff."

"But what kind of animal could do this?" Sam asked.

"No idea," the sheriff said. "But if there's even a chance the attacker was a human... Must've been a real sicko to do something like that," he said roughly. "Although 'round these parts they say chupacabras come out at night," the sheriff laughed to himself and walked away to another group of officials.

Dean turned to his brother.

"I think I know who the real sicko here is, Sam."

"He could be right though, Dean. I mean, chupacabras like hot weather and this is Alabama, it's not a big surprise."

"So we're dealing with a chupacabra? Great..," Dean licked his lips and looked around the site, taking in all of what the vulgar beast had done. A child was sitting on the edge of the ambulance, hands in her face and sobbing. Dean looked his brother in the eye "Work your magic, Oprah." Sam looked at his brother a second and strode off the the girl, closely followed by Dean.

"Hey, I'm Sam, and this is my brother Dean. Can I ask you what happened?"

The girl looked up, teardrops clung to her eyelashes leading up to the bloodshot eye. She looked at Sam for a moment then resumed her crying as if nothing had happened. Sam and Dean just stood there, not sure what to do. After a few short minutes the sob slowly came to a stop. She looked at Sam and exhaled a long shaky breath.

"I was in the car." Another shaky breath. "M-m-my mom a-and dad-d and deb-b..." She pulled the shock blanked closer to her body. "P-police ca-ca-came but he was-s a wolf..."

Dean clenched his jaw and looked at Sam

"So, you were in the car, and a wolf policeman killed your family?" Dean was doubtful. Sure. werewolves and vampires were one thing but this... sounded like something out of Caspar the friendly ghost but a slightly less friendly edition. The girl broke out in tears. Sam looked at Dean.

"Dammit Dean..." Sam stooped down to the girl's level and looked into her eyes "Hey, it's okay. I saw a bad thing happen to my parents too when I was about your age." Dean looked at Sam and watched as he had the heart to heart with the girl. "Macy." she sniffed and looked up at Sam. "Is that your name?" Sam questioned as he combed his mahogany colored hair out of his face. "M-mhmmm."

"Well Macy, you're in good hands now. Everything is going to be alright, I'll make sure of it."

As the boys fast-walked away from the tearful child Dean turned to Sam "I'm going to kill this son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do, Sam. And you're going to help me beat the bastard, you hear me?"

Sam's dimples deepened and he said "One step at a time, Dean. One step at a time." They got into the impala (Dean driving this time), shutting the doors simultaneously and bolted through the inky darkness of the night.

"Quite the scene you set back there, Sam. You worked your mojo real nice, Gaylord."

Sam pressed the stale buttons of the radio and pumped up the jazz station again, the soft trombone and trumpet filled the confined space of the car. "REALLY SAM." Dean shook his head and switched the numbers. The loud electric guitar sounded in the car, much louder than the jazz. Sam went to change it again but Dean slapped his hand, causing Sam to yelp in pain. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his pie-hole."

They got to the hotel in record time, receiving the crappiest suite possible. Dean strolled over to the queen and threw himself on it, the springs squeaking and jolting. The fridge was moldy and empty, and the carpeted floors were damp. This is the life...

As the brothers got ready for bed Dean lay shirtless, his toned abs glowing in the darkness- Sam was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, white toothpaste bubbles filling his mouth. A silhouette appeared at the foot of Dean's bed, breaking up. Dean curiously looked at it, sliding a blade from underneath his pillow out. Eventually, color filled in the shape. Castiel. "Cas, what are you doing here?"

Castiel looked up at Dean "I need your help, Dean." the bass voice swirled through Dean's ears but he didn't hear anything. He was once again entranced at the mere vision of the angel. His wild chestnut hair, the powdery blue eyes, so full of passion, worry and wonder at the same time. Dean shook his head "Umm.. what? sorry Cas, sorta dazed off..," silence. "It's cause I was tired, of course."

"The angels in the garrison are all turning on me. I'm warding them off as good as I can," tilting his head toward the newly chalked symbols all over the doorway. "But eventually they will find me, and I'm destined to be doomed."

"Please help me Dean. I want to live. There are so many things that I still want to do." Cas stepped a ways closer to Dean, and they locked eyes, breathing the same warm air. Sam stepped out of the bathroom, surprised. "Cas! Hey, um, what's up?" Castiel stepped back from Dean a ways to save the awkwardness and he sort of just looked at Sam. "Angels are hunting Cas down, and they won't stop til hes buzzard meat." Sam awkwardly ambled over to his mattress and got his socks on. "Then we better get move on guys."

"Not so fast, Samuel," Castiel loosened his tie and sat on Dean's mattress. "We have to be smart about this, they can find me anytime."

"So are they after our asses too?" Dean was worried, he could tell that Sam still had bits of demon blood in his veins; he couldn't even think the risk of losing him.

Castiel looked at Dean, apologetic. He didn't have to say anything. "Dammit Cas!"

"I'm sorry Dean. I'm very ashamed." he looked down at his shoes and shuffled his feet, nervous. He didn't like to make Dean upset.

Dean's face loosened. "Cas, look, it's fine. We just need to stay on our toes."

Dean sighed and rested his hands on his head, tired, overwhelmed. "Go watch TV Cas. Sam, can I get a word?" Castiel sat on the armchair and kept giving Dean sideways glances- he liked to look at Dean. Meanwhile, Dean was talking to Sam about their protection how they were going to escape the angels. "Well, we always have the angel dagger." Sam reassured Dean. True. "Too many angels will be against us after that. You know that Sam; You okay?"

Sam laid back and sighed heavily. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Really? 'Cause you been kinda pissy lately, Sam. What's going on?"

"Nothing. I-I'm fine, okay.?" Sam got up and looked at Dean. "I'm going to bed." The light went out on Sam's portion of the room and his breathing steadied. Slow and deep, Dean watched his brother's chest as it went up and down. Dad would be so proud of you Sam. You have no idea.

PART TWO:

Dean jolted awake from the touch of Castiel's cold hand. He must have fallen asleep. "Cas? You still up?"

"I don't sleep, remember?"

"What time is it?"

"Two thirty-seven Ante Meridiem."

"What does that mean?" Dean squinted at the angel in the pitch black of the hotel room.

"Ante Meridiem means before noon in Latin."

"Just say Two thirty-seven in the morning."

"Well now it's two thirty-eight"

"OKAY"

Dean looked at Sam still asleep on the bed. Castiel followed his eyes to the source. "Dean, I can tell that you are worried about Sam."

Dean's jaw tightened, and he looked up. Castiel sat down in the armchair across from Dean and stared into his eyes.

"You can tell me, Dean." For a while, Dean said nothing. He just picked at a loose thread on the cheap hotel sofa that he sat on. Finally he looked up at Castiel. His face was like a canvas; Cas could read all of the pain across Dean's face, the regret and the vengeance that was eating him alive, stripping him of what little saneness he had. Castiel looked at Dean's shoes, John's shoes actually. The boots that had carried both men though heroic acts, and a way for Dean to feel like his father was proud. And at his jacket, the brown leather one, also John's. It was worn and wrinkled but it was Dean's treasure. It made him feel strong, like his dad was right there, giving him all the praise in the world. He looked at the golden demon necklace Sam had given them when they were young. Sam meant everything to him. He was more precious than the world, but of course Dean wouldn't admit to that. For his entire life, his mission was to protect Sam, to make sure he was okay, to make sure his brother had the best. This isn't the best. Nobody in the right mind would choose this life if they had a choice. You save the world and innocent people but you as a person are never happy. Never. His eyes got up to Dean's face. He stared into the green orbs of Dean's eyes, seeing right through him. Dean was exhausted. "Something tonight, really got me." Dean's bad boy act had broken down by now, the tears streaming down his face.

"It can be those littlest things sometimes that you feel the most." He looked out the window, the stream of tears reflecting in the moonlight. Castiel rested his hand on Dean's knee, knowing how much he needed it. Dean began to cry, shaking his whole body and Cas felt it. He felt the soft jitter in his bones as he sobbed.

PART THREE:

The morning sun had risen and the room was quiet. Dean had fallen back asleep, Sam was on his laptop, undoubtedly looking up the case of the werewolf. A feathery sound sounded in the room followed by the appearance of Castiel. "Sam."

"Cas."

"Sam."

"Cas."

"Sam."

"Is this going anywhere?"

"The angels, they're coming."

"We have angel warding spells everywhere so they can't find us, right?"

The fluttering of multiple feathers in the room answered Sam's question.

"Zachariah." Sam quickly got out of bed and put his jeans on, never turning his back.

"Sam. Oh how I missed you." The drones behind Zachariah smiled a toothy grin, waiting to pounce.

Sam smiled back sarcastically, with his teeth barred.

"What do you want with Cas?" Sam questioned. Castiel dawdled closer to Sam.

"Word on the street he is turning against us, trying to stop the whole fucking apocalypse."

"People will die, Zachariah. How do I get you to understand that?"

"I don't need your input, demon boy."

In the midst of the commotion Dean had woken up and squinted his eyes at his brother and the lot of angels that had scattered around the room. Quietly, he made his way to a nearby wall and reached into his pocket, his fingers itching for his favorite tool. At once he found it. He flipped the blade open and rolled up his sleeves, inhaling sharply as he cut his arm, drawing blood. He used his finger and drew the angel warding symbol in his blood to stain the wall.

He smirked at Sam and pressed his palm against the wall. "Adios, Asshats." All of the angels, including Castiel disappeared into a flash of light, Sam looked at Dean and sighed.

"I think I got some more news on the case, its in fact not a werewolf, but hell hounds." Sam threw his hands up in the "Nothing we can really do" sort of way.

"So they made a demon deal?"

"I'm not sure yet. I think it's kind of a lost cause though."

"But Macy..."

"Dean-"

"Sam have we ever just dropped a case?"

"No."  
"Lets go." Dean slung his blue coat over his shoulder and started towards the door.

"Dean, wait. I'm just tired, you know?"  
"Sam, WERE ALL TIRED."

Sam made himself comfortable on the armchair, making it evident that he wasn't going anywhere.

Out of nowhere, Dean chin began to quiver.

_Shit! Might as well grow a nice pair of tits now..._

Dean sat down across from Sam. "I'm just tired of all this pain, Sam. It never goes away. I can't live a normal life. You can't we've tried to,"

He looked out the window. "You give it your all but, when do they start giving back?"

PART FOUR:

The boys sat there in science, soaking up their lives, all the deeds, good and bad. Their family and loved ones that they lost.

"Maybe it's time for me to go." Dean cleared his throat.

"What do you mean?"

Dean looked at Sam and gave him a sad smile.

He stood up without saying a word and left the hotel room. Sam could hear the impala's door slam shut and he knew this meant trouble.

Dean drove silently in the car.

Sam just sat there, breathing. Sam looked up at the ceiling and prayed "I know I haven't exactly been the most faithful person, that I've never been to church more times than what I could count on my fingers. But this is my rut for you. I'm stuck and I don't know if I'll get out. And-"

Castiel appeared in the room, same confused look on his face that he always had, ready for action.

"Sam," he looked around the room "Where is Dean?"

"He left."

Just as suddenly as Cas had come, he was gone.

Dean was picking up the pace in the impala just as Castiel clocked into the seat by him. He knew what Dean was going to do.

Dean sped up a little more _45 mph_

They were heading straight in the way of a rocky cliff at least a thousand feet deep. The road was barricaded but that didn't concern Dean, he had one last mission.

_55 mph_

Castiel rested his hand on Dean's knee and gripped it tight. The loud engine was seeding its self in their ears as Dean piled on even more speed.

_65 mph_

_75 mph_

Castiel squeezed his eyes tightly but Dean kept his wide open

_85 mph_

_95 mph_

At top speed now, the impala flew off of the cliff. Neither men shouted or talked as the car fell. They didn't need to talk to know how they felt. As the car hit the ground, Dean's last thought rested on Sam. He would miss him alright but now it was Sam's time for a taste of ordinary. Of course Sam would never be ordinary like Dean liked,

minuets later, Sam took his own life in the hotel apartment. He knew why Dean left, he had sensed it too long.

Their legacy would remain a secret, nobody would hear of them or their accomplishments, only thought of as "Winchester? Those two fugitives that got away?"


End file.
